To Build A Home
by Zadiel
Summary: Draco Malfoy lost everything in a blink of an eye. Twelve years later, he can almost say he is happy. But, something always has to mess up sooner or later. It's just a rule.


They say those who are afraid of heights aren't afraid of the height itself, but rather the prospect of falling from it. Draco Malfoy had never before considered himself afraid of such a silly thing; After all, who in their right mind would be when one always had a broom, or a wand, or a parent's careful guidance to shelter him from such a thing?

Kingsley Shacklebolt sits high up in the stands of the courtroom in front of the Malfoy family. He fights the urge to sigh, but the Malfoy family's trail has stretched on for almost four months. He is ready for it to finally be over, and ultimately gives in to his urge.

The three Malfoys look up at him, anxiously waiting to hear their fate. Kingsley can't help but look down on them with a mixture of pity and disgust. Lucious is ragged, with eyes of a madman. To fall so hard from grace has nearly destroyed him. His wife, Narcissa, is skin and bones. The months they have all spent in Azkaban during their trial has aged her. And, as Kingsley's eyes move over the boy, Draco, it is simply with pity. He never had a chance.

Kingsley had planned to deliver their sentence very simply, very curtly. Such was standard procedure. As he opened his mouth, however, his words took on a different tone , "This has, perhaps, been one of the longest trails I have stood during my short time as Minister. There have been many twists and turns in this story, and it is quite clear that you three are not innocent."

A low rumble of excited whispering fills the room. For the last couple of months the people have been demanding that all death eater trails be made public. It is a motion that Kingsley adamantly opposed, but ultimately lost.

"However, it is also clear that you aren't entirely guilty, either. It's been difficult to decide on a proper sentencing, but I feel confident in what the Wizengamot and I have decided." Kingsley pauses, "I hereby pardon Lucious Malfoy, Narsissa Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy from all charges, excluding 15 accounts of the use of an unforgivable curse, for which the punishment shall be 15 years probation and a minimum 10,000 Galleon fine for each account, both of which the exact terms will be settled on outside of court."

The court bursts with cries of outrage from the public spectators, and there is an onslaught of pops and flashes as every reporter around snaped a picture for the newspaper. Kingsley motions for several Aurors to start clearing the crowd out and just finishes telling the guard in charge of the Malfoys secure transportation to send them back to Azkaban to begin processing their release when several things seemingly happen at once.

There is a large explosion from the left. Kingsley is knocked to the ground. Then, the room is filled with complete darkness.

The courtroom is chaos. Cries and shrieks echo off the courthouse walls as people began to stampede toward the direction of the exit. Kingsley is stepped on several times, and is kicked to hard in the head lights burst in front of his eyes and his head spins. By the time he steadies himself, there is light in the hall once more. Several different theories as to what is happening, are already forming in his mind.

Kingsley stands up, surveying the scene. Aurors are now flooding in. A good portion of the stands that were once occupied by members of the Wizengamot have been destroyed, as well as a large chunk of the wall in which the public spectators had to stand behind. A fine layer of dust and rubble covers the room. His attention is immediately drawn to three Aurors whom have a small woman, now on her knees, surrounded in front of the court. She has blond, curly hair and locks on to Kingsley with wild eyes.

"Can you see it now, Mr. Shacklebolt, the ugliness inside them?" She pleads, and motions behind her with a flick of her head. For the first time since this unfortunate disturbance he looks at the Malfoys and thinks he is going to be sick.

Their innards lie in their laps, spilling to the floor, ripped out from their midsections through large gaping holes. Mister and Missus Malfoy do not move, their wide eyes unseeing. It is only the boy that trembles, gasping for air with partially dislodged lungs.

No, Draco Malfoy had never before considered what it was to fall. But, as he sat, bound to his chair, too damaged to even scream, he found out.


End file.
